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I.
Colibri Jan 2013
I.
The soft light touches me like a breeze,
Like a million gentle kisses on my body.
Rushing at me, drenching me, embracing me.
Rippling as I walk closer,
Swirling over my hands.
My dress becomes heavy with the dew of silver,
Dripping from the hem,
Plashing into little pools by my feet.
It condenses on my skin,
Becoming diamond tears, rolling down my arms and face,
Leaving shining rivulets behind.
My hair flicks the sparkling drops, bejeweling the air as I run
Closer, ever closer into the light.
I open my mouth to laugh.
The sweet light rushes down my throat,
Violently, suddenly, choking me.
I fall among the illumined puddles, splashing, floundering, drowning.
A black wave sneaks over me, I fight it.
Vainly pushing against the tangible darkness
The light! The light is growing dim.
I crawl towards it, laugh turned to scream.
Why won't it save me?


I awake with the taste of a beautiful dream
Broken.
Shining rivulets turned to scars on my skin,
Light to dark,
Love to hate,
How could something so beautiful, be so ugly?
Colibri Jan 2013
i forgot
to not let you taint my city,
to not associate my buildings
with you.
i forgot
that when you’d leave,
your portrait would be left.
i forgot
to not let you do that.

i forgot
not to let you spray paint your words
all over my haunts.
i forgot to erase your handprints off my sidewalks,
my walls,
matter of fact...
i forgot
not to let you touch.

i forgot
not to let you sit on my bench,
in my park,
you almost kissed me...
i forgot
to scrub that out.
now it’s too late.
indelible
graffiti that the others can see.

i forgot
at the library,
listening to your words,
i forgot
not to etch them into my brain.
like a broken record,
i hear them over and over.
i forgot i wouldn’t be able to get that out.

i forgot
not to let shooting stars remind me of you.
11:11
i always forget
not to make a wish for you.
i forgot
that i wasn’t supposed to compare
him to you.

i forgot
not to memorize
your hands.
your lips.
your hair, skin, eyes
on me.

i forgot
now you’re here
like a ghost
longing to be put to rest.
haunting me
in my head,
in my heart
on my sleeve.

i forgot
that in the end,
when i remembered,
that it would be too late
to erase.
did you want me to forget?
because
i remember
Colibri Apr 2013
It's hard to find
imposing words
to define a simple thing.
A gap in my heart,
left when you left,
remains, and keeps reminding

how nice it was
to have you here.
Holding my hand as I stepped,
as a child to the world
of thoughts and books
and things of value to be kept.

Woman I've become,
and so Man you must be;
making the world your own.
While I by myself,
must take it for myself
before you will return.

And so I have
a gap here now
until we've made our way.
Til we've run the race
so we can place
as King and Queen of the World.
Colibri Jan 2013
The empty page,
So much can be done with it
Write on it,
Draw on it,
Smooth, inviting... fillable.
Only for me to mark.

The empty page,
It's sad really,
Unused,
Use it!
Empty, lonely... neglected
Begging to be written on

This empty book,
Won't last too long
I'll sing,
I'll scream,
Happy, sad... passionate,
I will fill this book.
Colibri Jun 2013
i want to stay in your pocket
for forever and a day.
til the world is spent,
the sun’s gone away.
i want to stay in your pocket,
for forever and a day.
til the earth stops turning
and the skies go gray.

pull me out like a mouse
who’s become your best friend,
show me the world in your eyes.
talk to me late at night,
when you just can’t sleep,
let me listen
to all your dreams.

when the sun is veiled.
the moon’s in a shroud.
the wind’s whistling around your ears.
let me sing you to sleep
til the rain’s ceased her beat
and the sapphire sky’s returned.

on the day you feel abandoned,
your courage seems to fail you,
the ideas your hand wrought come to nil.
let me sit upon your shoulder,
whisper to heaven, over and over,
the words your soul’s too full to speak.

when i’ve stayed in your pocket
for forever and a day,
and when the world’s been spent
and the sun’s gone away,
when the earth’s stopped turning
and the skies gone gray,
when Fortune’s lovely face
has smiled upon your pain,
the rainbow’s end has lighted on your scars,
then my work here is finished
my happiness complete.

i’ve stayed in your pocket
for forever and a day
Colibri Apr 2013
what are you
when i’m by myself
make believing

you’re painted pictures
you’re fairy tales
i’m dreaming

when we meet i’m
disappointed
disconcerted
disillusioned

of the dreams hiding
this boy afraid
this man brave
this idiot wasted
this genius working

Remind me.

you’re the one thing
i don’t want to ruin
by imagining
Colibri Apr 2013
There’s no grace for a sinner here.
In this little white room,
with the little white girls
and the good little boys.
They all cast the stones, cracking
my fragile bones,
and making my dress quite black.

There’s no place for a sinner here.
Where they all look the same,
all out to tame us,
damning us all to hell.
Technicalities steal pride, and
Legality’s crushing tide
forces our dignity to fall.

There’s no room for a sinner here.
You’ll do as you’re told.
Dare ask why and you’re bold;
never to make much in life.
Backsliders are peered on
over pretty noses apparently smeared on,
by simplicity and a bit of wine.

There’s no peace for a sinner here.
Perfect footprints are left over,
those lively blueprints we pored over
through many a midnight candle.
Both innocence and experience
leave them incensed and indignant.
keeping our consciences guilted.

There’s no rest for a sinner here.
Enjoyment is frivolous,
laughter is selfish,
and love must be evil incarnate.
If this is what perfect,
must look like, then I’m perfect-
ly happy with the mess that I’ve made.
Colibri Mar 2013
it's unfortunate
how often the words that are
never quite become
the words that could be
Colibri Apr 2013
what does it take
to appreciate
a poem

they all want drama
as if there werent enough trauma
already

happys like a star
pretty but much too far
to be caught

all the ones who try
have all gone home to cry
once or twice

so we look at them and think
not gonna drive myself to the brink
of crazy

so what does it take
to appreciate
a poem

a takes a certain mind
to put unhappy behind
to live
Colibri Jan 2013
One day on these insubstantial wings I’ll fly
I’ll keep believing -
That one day, they’ll be real.
Tangible.
For the whole world to see.
They’ll understand
What I saw, wasn’t just a mirage,
But an inspiration, an ambition.
These wings will take me places.
Places I’ve seen only in dreams.
I’ll fly one day, I’ll make it.
One day....

— The End —